


December When They Wed

by Spoon888



Series: Furnace [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Autobot Meddling, Established Relationship, M/M, Wedding Planning, no seriously, post-war AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-03-03 04:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13333509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Megatron and Starscream don't want a frivolous party to celebrate their belated bonding. They're getting one anyway.A disaster in three parts.





	1. Chapter 1

Megatron reached the base of the building housing Starscream's apartment and sent off a message for his mate, _Here._

The tower, Volatus Point, was designed with a specific sort of resident in mind -those with wings and thrusters. The only point of access were the balconies. Being flight- _in_ capable, Megatron had no way of reaching fifty stories up to Starscream's without a lift. Pointing this out to his mate had so far fallen on muted audials. Starscream cared more for his prime real estate than he did Megatron's ability to co-habitat with him.

Or maybe that was why he insisted on keeping the apartment. Suspicious indeed.

Starscream's response came swiftly, _Busy. Let yourself in_

Megatron ground his denta together, "I would if I could, you..."

Rather than let his resentment simmer through the bond and eventually get back to Starscream -who would only spitefully lock him out- Megatron hailed a transport for the job of glorified elevator.

The balcony doors were thrown open when he reached the top. He stepped in, brushing windswept drapes aside, "Starscream?"

"Took you long enough," his mate's voice called from one of the antechambers.

Starscream's apartment was so vast that Megatron still wasn't entirely familiar with most of it. Granted, he didn't care for exploring much past the offices and Starscream's berthroom. Most of the spare space was wasted on entertaining hypothetical guests Starscream never bothered to invite.

He followed the sound of his mate's voice to the other side of the apartment. His sensors picked up an increase in air temperature and humidity as he stepped through an archway into a low-lit, marbled room. In it's centre sat a pool of rich, golden oil. And in that, sat Starscream.

His mate lifted his helm from where it rested on the pool's edge, optics dim and sleepy,

"Busy, are you?" Megatron queried, stepping to the edge of the sunken oil bath. It was decadently full to almost overflowing. Starscream was submerged up to the neck and wing tips.

"You criticise, but it takes a lot of work to look like this." Starscream shifted, stirring the oil. An arm lifted from it's depths and flicked the warm liquid across Megatron's shin armour. "I've had a long cycle..." He sighed.

From Megatron's point of view it looked like he'd spent all of that 'long cycle' lounging in his oil bath. "I see."

His mate onlined an optic, narrowing it at him, "I can tell when you're being sarcastic, you know." He sat forward, and the oil-line dropped below his chest, revealing the shimmering armour beneath, "And here I was, thinking of asking you to join..."

Megatron was more than happy to play hard to get if Starscream was in one of _those_ moods. He huffed, leaving the pools edge, "I'll take myself elsewhere then."

"Wait," oil splashed and Megatron glanced back to watch Starscream teasingly lift an elegant thruster above the oil. He let the golden substance track down his leg slowly. Mesmerisingly. "...I may still."

"Is there even enough room?" Megatron asked, sauntering back over, keeping up the disinterested facade. Starscream would feel the lust vibrating through his circuits via his spark. He would know he was anything but disinterested.

"I'll make room," Starscream promised, and sat up, lifting his arms out of the oil to rest them along the pool's edge. "I could always sit in your lap."

That was more than enough motivation for Megatron to join him. With a ferocious purr, engine revving, he descended on the bath, seizing the edges and plunging himself in. It drew an indignant squawk from his mate as the oil level rose and spilled across the floor, waves of it sloshing up and splashing him in the face.

" _No_! You-!"

Megatron kissed him smoothly, sinking deeper. More oil spread across the floor -a deathtrap to walk over later. He didn't care as he found Starscream's thighs in it's depths. He gripped and squeezed the shapely armour as he hoisted Starscream up into his lap. Oil dripped off Starscream's wings in streams.

His cheek was smeared as Starscream cupped his face and turned his helm to the side, deepening the kiss. Megatron hummed into in, tugging Starscream closer, enjoying the warm swell of a glass cockpit against his flat chest armour.

"Eager," Megatron huffed, mouth quirking at the painful little tug as Starscream bit his lip.

"Stop working so late," Starscream hissed, apparently beyond amusement. There had been talk -or rather, Starscream had talked _at_ him- of taking some time away from the capital after their bonding. It was possible that he had been neglecting his mate.

Rather than spout sentimental reassuring drivel about how he was here now though, Megatron shoved his mate back. Starscream's spinal strut hit the edge of the pool at an awkward angle and he hissed in pained irritation, claws stabbing into the back of Megatron's neck were Starscream's servo was cupping him. He felt heat against his gut where Starscream's interface began to grind against him.

He rocked back, hips undulating in waves mirroring the sloshing oil.

A double ping sounded. Incoming messages. Megatron lifted his arm above the oil to check the sender. Prime.

Starscream was also checking his wrist. Prime had sent him one too. Must be important. Megatron rolled his optics and adjusted the seeker on his lap, "What does it say?" He asked, already leaning in to nibble on Starscream's neck cables. Oil lingered between the wires and delicate components but he didn't mind the taste.

Starscream squirmed under his ministrations, "It's, uh, it's an invitation."

He sounded unsure.

"Hmm?"

"A bonding ceremony." Starscream elaborated. He was wriggling away from Megatron now.

Megatron snorted. By Primus, did he hate bonding ceremonies. "Trash it."

He was answered with silence. Even as he moved up Starscream's helm and licked the seeker's audial receiver, there was no response. Worried, he drew back, "Starscream?"

The seeker was staring at his wrist with a befuddled expression, not unlike when he had found out Skywarp was up for nomination as the senatorial representative for Vos. That had been a weird week for everyone. 

"It says it's  _our_ bonding ceremony."

Megatron stared at Starscream. Then realised he wasn't joking and nearly broke his mate's arm trying to twist his wrist into view so he could see the message with his own optics.

"Ow!"

"Stop squirming-!"

Starscream slapped him away and lifted himself off of his lap and up onto the edge of the pool, leaving his legs dangling in the oil. He held his wrist out in front of him, showing the holographic projection of the message Prime had sent.

Megatron squinted, reading, "The honour of your presence is requested at the ceremony commemorating the union of Lord High Protector, Megatron of Tarn, to Starscream of Vos-"

"Prince!" Starscream snapped crazily, interrupting him, "It should be _Prince_ Starscream of Vos!"

Megatron didn't think that was their most pressing concern at this very moment, "I know-"

"I thought you hated ceremonies," his mate continued to snarl. He kicked Megatron lightly in the chest, knocking him onto his aft with a splash. "And now I find out you organised this behind my back?"

"I didn't-" Megatron tried, wiping oil from his optics.

"How dare you." Starscream was clearly not listening, too busy pointing and shaking his fists. "You know I'm the best party planner this side of the galaxy. I've been waiting to plan this day for orns and you just go ahead and-"

Megatron's attention faltered at that news. Starscream was materialistic and flashy and always _wanted_ , but he had never asked for an official ceremony to celebrate their bonding, had never hinted that he might have wanted an evening in the spotlight with as much painfully opulent pomp and circumstance as physical conceivable.

Megatron knew _he_ didn't. He was of Tarn. Tarn didn't do... elegant celebrations.

But Vos did. And Starscream lived for attention.

"-even hire an orchestra?" Starscream as still nattering. "I won't attend any event with a DJ playing, not again. I don't care if it means I leave you at the altar, I'm not-"

"Starscream!" Megatron snapped, catching his mate's wildly gesturing servo. Starscream blinked at him, surprised into silence. "You foolish seeker, I didn't organise this."

Starscream's brow ceased, "Then... who did?"

 

* * *

 

 

One of many annoyances that came with being mated to Starscream was the little fiend's insistence on being involved with everything. Granted, on this particular occasion the situation did involve him, but the seeker accompanying Megatron to the senate was an exercise in counterproductive haste.

Especially seeing as Shockwave had revoked Starscream's security clearance from the senate some weeks ago during an argument, and conveniently forgotten to have it reinstated.

"Don't take it out on me," Starscream hissed at him in one of his short pauses between threatening Prime's personal security department. "It's that stuck up No-Face that needs firing. Or better yet, deactivated."

"I'd fire _you_ If I could." Megatron rumbled back, hailing Prime for the fourth time. He was cleared to go ahead, but daring to do so without Starscream meant he likely wouldn't have a mate to come home to.

Starscream sent him a look as if to say the feeling was mutual, before opening his own com link. He flicked through an extraordinarily long list of contacts before settling on, "Aha," he swiped it across.

Though Megatron had only glimpsed the 'E' at the beginning of the designation he knew enough to be worried. "Don't-!"

"Elita!" Starscream answered sickeningly sweet, "Nice of you to pick up."

The com emitted static as Elita sighed, " _You got here fast_."

"So you knew we'd be coming," Starscream sneered. He began to pace away from Megatron. "Is this some kind of sick payback for that bet you lost out on? Elita, I knew you were petty, but this-"

" _There's been a... mistake_." Elita answered, sounding surprisingly diplomatic for someone speaking to Starscream. " _I'll buzz you on through. Optimus will explain."_

The com deactivated, and true to her word, a buzz sounded. The two hulking security mechs stepped aside, one of them entering the access code for Prime's offices. Megatron couldn't help but feel a little bitter at the four messages from him Prime had ignored.

"What can I say," Starscream caressed his arm as they stepped though, "People respond to me better. I'm charismatic."

Megatron nodded, "Yes, I'm sure that's it."

The Prime's office was uncharacteristically empty for this time of night. Most of the staff had been sent home -all save Prowl, scowling at something on the front desk, and two Autobot's Megatron recognised as former front-line warriors, polishing the reflective floor with impractically small brushes.

Megatron could sense Starscream's amusement at the sight. Apparently these were the two that often troubled him and his trine during the war.

"Ah," Prowl looked up when they entered. His expression was stoic and tense. "And the repercussions have already arrived." He glanced at the floor scrubbers. Megatron followed his gaze just in time to see the two warriors drop their optics and start working harder.

Prowl pressed a buzzer, "Go on through."

Megatron put on his best intimidating swagger, shoulders rolling and helm bowed, all the better to cow Prime with. The effect was sadly lessened by Starscream darting in ahead of him like a missile, shoving the hinged doors hard enough that they bounced against the wall and swung back into Megatron's face as he entered afterwards. Prime definitely saw it happen.

"Prime." Starscream snarled, striding up to the Prime's desk and planting his servos on his hips. "Explain yourself."

Megatron followed up behind him, rubbing his nose where the door had slammed into it. He hoped it hadn't dented.

Prime, only slightly distracted, rose from his chair slowly. His optics were dim, and it made him look older and wearier than he ever had at war. He gestured for them to take a seat. "We had a minor internal security breach." He explained immediately. "To be precise, the invitations you received where sent out preemptively by a pair of pranksters."

Ah, thought Megatron. That explained the two repentant looking floor-scrubbers outside. He sat across from Prime, pulling the chair out beside him for Starscream to sit down.

His mate ignored the drawn chair.

"Pre-emptively?" He hissed, "Why did they exist in the first place, Prime?"

Prime took a deep steadying breath. "A decision was made-"

"By who?" Megatron growled, because it was obvious he hadn't been part of said decision.

"Public Relations," Prime answered.

And weren't that department just the bane of Megatron's peace time existence. The hatred was mutual between them. Public Relations had the nerve to force Megatron into appearances he wanted no part in, and Megatron had the audacity not to smile in any of the publicity pictures taken at said events.

"They want to parade us around?" Starscream guessed easily, "Why? What did we do?"

Prime shook his helm, "This isn't a punishment. This is a good thing."

He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"No." Megatron growled, thinking of the parasitical media that did little but hound his mate and spread lies. "I won't have you warping my relationship into some peacetime-unity-jamboree for the sake of good publicity." 

Prime's optics dimmed solemnly, "This has to happen, Megatron."

"Has to?" Starscream pursed his lips, "Already paid the caterers?"

"You are public figures." Prime explained, "Megatron is High Lord Protector, and you are both Decepticons. Your bonding itself has already been leaked to several media outlets and when they get wind that there will be no ceremony to accompany the act-"

"What business is it of theirs? Of anyone's?" Megatron's ire mounted again.

"This was an inevitably," Prime kept his vocaliser wisely tight on the nature of the media attention. "You did well to keep it within our inner circle for so long, but you must have known it would get out sooner or later."

"Then stop encouraging them," Megatron argued, trying not to dwell on what those media outlets would be churning out come morning, "I will not allow you to make anymore a spectacle of this."

"It's not a spectacle," Starscream seemed to be siding with Prime now, giving him a condescending look. "It's damage control."

Prime nodded, "It'll also give your office a chance to introduce Starscream under his new formal title."

Starscream whipped back around again, confused, "My what?"

Prime lifted a datapad to read the one underneath, "Lord Consort."

"Consort?" Starscream snarled, "I have to be _his_ Consort? In case you're forgetting _Prime_ ," he reminded the Prime snottily, "I am a Prince. Shouldn't _he_ have to be 'Prince Consort'?"

"'Lord High Protector' ranks higher than the Prince of a high-caste dead household," Prime answered easily.

Megatron felt Starscream's indignity blast through every inch of their bond like a furnace, "Since. _When_?"

"Since always," a lighter voice announced from behind. Megatron's spark dropped into his tank at the sound of Elita One's voice. She came into the office to extend a couple of datapads to Starscream. "You'll also be taking on a fair few of his duties. Here, Prowl's made you a list."

Starscream looked at the datapad's like he wanted to take them back to Prowl and ram them behind his door-wings.

"There's also the matter of your residence," Prime continued, because apparently they hadn't suffered enough. "The traditional estate for Lord Protector is within the senatorial district. It's more than suitable for a newly bonded couple."

"Since Megatron lives in a hovel on the city outskirts and you, Starscream, still own a penthouse apartment _without stairs_ , it's more than just suitable," Elita sauntered around to sit on the desk beside Prime, "It's _necessary_. You cannot live apart."

Megatron was somewhat flummoxed at the speed of which Prime and his femme were accelerating their relationship for them.

"I'm not living in some claustrophobic ground-level box!" Starscream snapped, much to Megatron's relief.

Prime opened his mouth to argue, but Elita placed a servo on his arm, "Battle for another day," she murmured before straightening, "Fine. But the ceremony is still on."

"I reserve the right to veto anything you gaudy Autobots try to force on us." Starscream laid his last protest on the table. "If I see any orange in the colour theme I won't turn up."

Prime nodded, like that was a perfectly acceptable request, "Megatron?"

Megatron glanced aside at his mate. Starscream seemed fairly satisfied with the arrangement. So Megatron supposed he was too. He nodded, ignoring the churning of his tanks. "I'm accepting of the situation, but know that I am not happy with it."

"We didn't expect you to be," Elita agreed. "You don't have to worry about much. The events department have everything in servo. They'll only bother you if it's urgent."

Good. Megatron thought. The sooner this was over and done with, the better.

"Should take about six months of prep-"

"Six months?!" Megatron snarled. What happened to the days of rolling out a keg of high-grade and just letting the evening take course? That was how he remembered celebrations of old in Tarn, out in the street, the open air. There was none of this colour themes, guest lists, and media attention nonsense.

Starscream caught his servo under the table and gave it a squeeze. It was almost reassuring.

It'll fly by, Starscream whispered at him through the bond.

 

* * *

 

Megatron was in some dire need of cheering up. It was for that reason alone that Starscream accompanied him back to his apartment on the dingy streets of the city outskirts. A lot of Megatron's sparse belongings had been moved to Starscream's penthouse, leaving the un-lived in grey boxlike home even emptier.

Though at least the berth was large and soft, and smelt like Megatron.

The once-warlord was laid on his back, staring listlessly through the large windows looking out into the city like the world was ending. Starscream watched him for a moment, trying to concoct a way to liven him up. Megatron's dread of social events often eclipsed how distasteful he actually found them. Starscream supposed he thought this would be the worst yet, as he was expected to be the centre of it all.

He crawled across the berth on servos and knees until he reached Megatron. His mate barely lifted his helm as Starscream swung a leg over his hips and settled down on top of him. He tucked his helm under his mate's chin and snuggled down.

"We can get overcharged." He promised.

Megatron huffed, his chest rising under Starscream.

"I'll get you so charged, you won't remember a thing," he elaborated, "We'll stay for an hour and then leave." He lifted his helm to kiss Megatron's jaw, "Then we come back here." He kissed the corner of his mouth, "Have a party of our own."

Megatron's servos came up to his back, holding him, "Do you want the ceremony?"

Starscream paused, thinking. It would be lying to say he didn't. And Megatron would know. They were beyond most games of deception now. He caressed the armour of Megatron's chest, settling down again. "I wouldn't mind it."

There was a long pause.

"Then I will suffer it," Megatron sighed, "...I may even do it sober."

"I probably won't." Starscream admitted, "All those Autobots... think of the sappy speeches?"

Megatron groaned low.

"I'll keep an optic on Prime and his events team." Starscream promised, because he knew ensuring Prime didn't go full-Autobot on the ceremony would be one of the most important things to get Megatron through this. "Make sure there's less table ornaments and more high grade."

"You're a good mate," Megatron offered some rare praise, glancing up at him.

"Consort," Starscream reminded him, wriggling closer, slipping a knee between Megatron's thighs. "It's my duty."

Megatron snorted, and mate suitably cheered up, Starscream allowed himself to smirk before squirming closer and kissing him again. And again. Until the berth clothes rustled and thoughts of stuffy Autobot ceremonies were the last thing on his Lord Protector's mind.

 

* * *

 

One small advantage of Starscream's penthouse was that it was too high for the media drones to siege. They would loiter at the bottom, obsessively snapping high zoomed pictures whenever their motion sensors detected movement on the balcony fifty stores up.

Megatron appreciated that it was the closest to privacy that he and Starscream could get.

His own apartment did not have that same luxury. It sat at ground level, on a public street, more accessible than most homes for both his laziness and his initially noble intention of turning back to his roots and living like most ordinary Cybertronians. It was a decision he regretted now.

"Don't open the blinds." Starscream told him cheerfully from the berth, sipping on his energon and reading a news file as he watched Megatron stumble to his pedes and veer dangerously close to said window controls.

"Why?" Megatron grunted, already flicking the switch.

The blinds hadn't opened two inches before he was being blinded by flashes of light and rapid movement.

He slapped the switch again. "Wonderful."

Starscream held his news file aloft, "Want to read it? We're being accused of eloping."

Megatron stomped back over and snatched the news off him, "Didn't we?"

"Yes, except the formal announcement of a ceremony is on page six."

Megatron tossed the file back at the berth. "I should resign." He said solemnly.

"You're not getting out of it," Starscream reproached, settling back against a pile of pillows he had stacked up for himself, "It'll be fine."

Megatron grunted.

"You don't even have to do anything. Just show up," Starscream finished off the rest of his cube. "And you _will_ show up. You can just point at me and say 'this one' in leu of any actual vows if you like, but you _will not abandon me."_

"When have I ever-?"

"Last week." Starscream kicked at the berth covers, "That abominable peace parade you didn't bother turning up for."

"I was delayed."

"And I spent three hours on a parade float with Bumblebee!" Starscream screeched, upset and rightly so.

"Alright," Megatron relented, "I swear to you, I will show up. But you must swear to me, no ridiculous outfits."

Starscream pulled a face, "...It's my big day."

"No crowns." Megatron elaborated.

"What if we _both_ had crowns?"

Megatron didn't dignify that with an answer. He went instead to the cupboard housing his rarely used fusion cannon and latched it into place.

"You stay here," he ordered the seeker, heading towards the front door where the media drones were buzzing around. "I need to do some pest control."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not a proper wedding without a train-wreck of a bachelor party beforehand. Starscream wouldn't have it any other way.

"So I'm your Wingmate, right? On the big day?"

Starscream didn't even grace Skywarp with eye contact. "Thundercracker is."

"What the slag, Screamer?" A fist hit the table, shaking the glass cubes atop it. "I put up with your scrap all these years- no! I'm, _I'm_ the mech that got you too together in the first place! Remember? It was _my_ idea-"

"Firstly," Starscream looked up from the first draft of the guest list Prowl had sent him- and Primus was it awful. Autobots and dignitaries and alien neighbours, and it was all set up to be so like one of Prime's political banquets he doubted he'd even have time to look at his mate during the ceremony, let alone speak with him. Everyone and their creator was coming. This thing better be perfect. 

"I have no choice in the matter." He gave Skywarp an honest look. "Public Relations picked Thundercracker because he has a better reputation, and you're a screw up."

Skywarp scowled, and just to twist the knife a little more Starscream added, "They also like him better for the pictures."

"That's not true, Screamer. TC doesn't have my charming smile."

" _Secondly_ ," Starscream cut across him, "You did not get anyone 'together'. You struggle to manipulate air into your own intakes. You think you had _any_ sway in my victory over Megatron?"

Skywarp's optics brightened worrisomely, "You make it sound like you defeated him, Starscream. You bonded him."

"Same difference," Starscream huffed, turning back to his list. "You're invited. That should be enough."

"I have to sit on one of the back tables with some low level dumbaft Autobot's like... Ironhide."

"Ironhide's on one of the front tables." Starscream grunted, "He's part of Prime's inner circle."

"And _I'm_ not in _your_ inner circle?!"

"You're not in _Megatron's_." Starscream explained resentfully. He understood Skywarp's frustration. He was playing second fiddle to both an establishment that were using the ceremony as a publicity stunt and mech who might not even turn up.

(He'd better fragging turn up.)

"This is so unfair," Skywarp threw up his arms. "I'm your trine. I'm like, I'm like family, Screamer. And I'm sat on the table closest to the door."

"And you're moving further away every time you call me _that_." Starscream glared over the top of the guest list.

"I just have one favour then." Skywarp leant in to grasp his servo, clinging to it pleadingly. "If there's a fountain of high-grade, I want to be next to it."

 

* * *

 

  
Mechs from both Public Relations and Events were keen to harass Megatron over minor and inconsequential details about a ceremony months down the line as if the outcomes meant life or death. For the sake of peace, Megatron had tolerated the initial catastrophe of what colour theme the centrepieces should have. When they came back three hours later, interrupting a brief over minor protests in Praxus, complaining that the specific shade of red he had chosen would clash with Starscream's body work, he was less patient. Especially when one of them suggested asking Starscream to change _his armour_ to suit the surroundings.

And telling the events committee member to burn the centrepieces and the tables with them was apparently not the right solution to the problem.

In order to avoid future disagreements, Megatron posted Ramjet outside his offices to act as an impromptu security guard. He was both loyal enough to Megatron to discriminate against anyone acting under the orders of Prime, and too stupid to be argued with anyway.

But the departments of Public Relationships and Events were cleverer than he had given them credit.

They knew where he lived.

And Starscream, ever the traitor, let them in.

"You're a giant armoured sparkling." Starscream told him distractedly, and the two organisers sat either side of him shifted awkwardly. Megatron had already terrorised them and from where they sat Starscream was doing nothing but antagonising him further. 

"I do not care where the energon is from." He said stiffly.

One of the organisers raised a digit, "It has to-"

Megatron looked at him. And he soon shut up.

"I have a planet to run, Starscream." He reminded his mate heatedly. "I don't have time to sit around looking through this," he flipped one of the brochures over disdainfully, "Trash."

Starscream's optics flashed. He snatched the abused brochure away, dusting it off. "Fine. Work on your speech."

He flapped a distracted servo at the mech on his other side, who, under Megatron's gaze, sank ever deeper into the couch, petrified by the former-warlord's sudden attention. "Speech?" He demanded.

"Just-" he mech looked at his colleague for help. The colleague in question hid behind Starscream's wing and pretended not to be involved. Coward. "You, Prime requires you to give a speech towards the end of the ceremony. And he has specifications about what should and should not be said-"

Megatron felt doubly annoyed. "So you're going to censor me?"

"Good luck." Starscream muttered, and before Megatron could explode, or the censor-mech could attempt to defend himself, Starscream flipped the file he was holding around and tapped a claw at one of the images. "What do you think?"

"What?" Megatron snapped, not used to Starscream asking his opinion on anything.

"New body work." Starscream said, "For the ceremony. I want to look nice."

The correct answer to this question was, "You always look nice." He was sure of it, which is why he said it.

Starscream scowled, "You're being useless."

Megatron bit back a snarled retort and picked a design at random. "That one."

"That's," Starscream scowled, " _Yellow_?!"

"I need a drink," Megatron announced, standing. Both the organisers opened their mouths, fingers poised. "No!" Megatron snapped at them, and stormed off.

He heard Starscream's loud sigh as he locked himself behind the study door, and the condescending, "He's a little overwhelmed," afterwards. 

Megatron punched the desk and left a nice rounded dent in it's centre for Starscream to find later. Little brat.

 

* * *

 

"We should have our own party." Starscream announced out of the blue one evening in berth.

For Megatron, who was laid on his stomach between Starscream's spread thighs, it was the last thing he'd been waiting for his mate to say. Their every conversation as of late had been about this cursed ceremony.

He grunted, "What? No more parities..."

Starscream's mouth twisted at the tickle of Megatron's breath on his inner thighs. "No, it'll be 'fun'," he breathed, sounding like he was testing the word. "A last celebration of freedom before tying myself down to you forever."

"You're already tied down forever." Megatron scowled, and bit lightly at the armour of his mate's thigh possessively. "It's too late to celebrate nonexistent freedom."

"You don't want one?"

"No." Megatron kissed his armour intimately, hoping to end the conversation.

Starscream's exhale shuddered out of him. The tension in his thighs seemed to melt under Megatron's tough servos. "Can't _I_ have one at least?"

Megatron wasn't in the habit of denying his mate what he wanted. He hadn't been bonded long enough to have built up the necessary immunity to Starscream's handsome face and bright pleading optics.

He settled his chin atop Starscream's hip and looked at him, "Why bother asking when you do however you please?"

Starscream shrugged, lowering a servo to pet at Megatron's helm. "Maybe I wanted you to say no. So we would argue."

"Why?" Megatron squeezed his thighs, hard enough to make the seeker wince. He watched him dangerously. "To anger me?"

"So you would look at me like that." Starscream pointed at his scowling face. He pushed himself to his forearms and Megatron followed, crawling out from between the seeker's gorgeous thighs to catch him in a kiss.

"We should do it." Starscream purred, dragging Megatron down on top of him. It was almost like Starscream wanted to be crushed beneath his larger mate, like the weight of the warlord grounded him.

Megatron snorted, hips lifting when Starscream's servos wandered southwards to tease at the seams and latches there. "One party is enough, don't you think?"

Starscream didn't respond until after he had freed Megatron's arousal from his armour. He stroked his mate slowly, teasingly. "The ceremony's not a party." He whispered, lips brushing Megatron's audial, his fingers careful and warm, "This one will be. You and I and not a single Autobot or politician or..."

Starscream did something particularly clever with his thumb and Megatron groaned aloud, helm dropping to Starscream's shoulder. He nodded listlessly, giving in embarrassingly soon. He had little defence against Starscream in this sort of battle.

He had little defence against Starscream _at all_ these days.

His mate smiled, devious, but bright and genuine. Megatron offlined his optics before such a sight had his old spark burning itself out.

 

* * *

 

 

Megatron had never had the honour of sharing civilian transportation with an entire seeker trine before. He had been lucky up until this night.

Skywarp was already overcharged, helm half hanging out the window after complaints of feeling 'air sick' -a ridiculous thing for a seeker to claim. Thundercracker looked sorely tempted to push him out the rest of the way.

"You've gotta make the most of it," Skywarp was yelling at Megatron from the seat opposite, easily brushing aside Thundercracker's embarrassed attempts at muffling him. "Soon as you're official that's it. You turn into, into _this_ old, _old boring couple."_

Megatron glanced at Starscream, who was checking his reflection in one of the windows and apparently oblivious to Skywarp's drunken rambling.

"This is Screamer's last big, big..."

"Night." Thundercracker supplied lamely, looking exhausted already.

"- _Night_ of freedom!"

"He's already bonded, Warp." Thundercracker glanced out the window, desperate to see if they'd arrived yet.

"Yeah but," Skywarp's grin turned saucy, and he winked at Megatron like he'd forgotten who it was he was sharing such a small transport with. "It's the last time he can _get away_ with it."

"Get away with what, exactly?" Megatron snarled, irritable at the implication. If he saw a single piece shareware he was tossing his mate over his shoulder and leaving. Immediately. And the closer they got to their establishment, he more likely that was looking. He remembered this district of Kaon, and what it had been most well known for.

Who let _Skywarp_ organise this anyway?!

 

* * *

 

 

Megatron's every fear had been realised.  

A huge majority of his former _Nemesis_ crew were present, most likely invited by Skywarp and encouraged to attend at the chance of witnessing the debacle this would inevitably be. Only the Constructicons still possessed the sense to remember to incline their helms respectfully to their former leader. Astrotrain was quite possibly the only attendee that was drunker than Skywarp -if the way he had attempted to high five Megatron was any judge of sobriety.

Starscream took Megatron's arm and marched him through the crowd of raunchy Decepticons into the what looked like a cross between a night club and the set of a horror film. Inside everything was lit by black-light. This made it all the easier to see the ultraviolet paint marks smeared across the armour of the clubs patrons, hand prints on chests and wings and-

Megatron looked away with a snort, taking in the rest of the bar. The tables dotted around the establishment looked specifically designed to be climbed up onto -and if the poles running through the centres were anything to go by- danced on as well.

He took an instinctive step back, but Starscream tugged on his wrist, and behind him Skywarp pushed.

They manhandled him into the centre of the club, towards a table they were claiming. Megatron had barely sat down before Skywarp's thruster appeared on the table in front of him and a dark frame was swinging around the pole with practiced ease, laugher musical.

Skywarp lasted all of two rotations before Thundercracker was yanking him down again, looking livid.

Megatron soon found his lap occupied by a seeker of his own. He wrapped his arms around Starscream with instinct born of having lost track of his mate a hundred times before in poorly lit, seedy establishments such as this one.

Starscream leaned in as if to kiss him, veering sideways last second. His breath was already rich with high grade. "Wanna see me up there?" He purred.

Megatron might have -with a few drinks in him- but not here, in front of so many prying optics. He kept his grip tight on the seeker. "I would rather keep you here. Where I can keep an optic on you."

Starscream flashed him a grin as if to say he had plans on changing that mindset with a few drinks. He turned and yelled something Megatron couldn't hear over the music at Thrust. The other seeker nodded and disappeared. "Maybe _you_ should give me a show then?"

The only way Starscream would catch him with his servos around that pole would be if he was planning on using it as a weapon. Which seemed likely in this Primus-damned hovel.

Starscream didn't wait for his answer anyway, reaching back behind him where one of the serving drones was passing with the ultraviolet paint. He dunked his servo into it roughly then brought it back around. Megatron veered away in alarm, eyeing the dripping limb where it was leaving little specks of paint down his and Starscream's chests. Starscream wriggled his digits coyly, before lowering it and deftly writing his own designation wonkily with his finger across Megatron's chest. Marking his property, probbaly. 

"Thank you for that." He groused, but Starscream was already leaning in for a kiss. Megatron reciprocated, and realised too late when Starscream clutched at him wetly that the seeker had just smeared his paint soaked servo all down Megatron's back to grope his aft.

He broke the kiss with a resentful grumble.

Starscream winked playfully and climbed off, patting his cheek once, smearing more paint.

Thrust appeared out of the crowd them, a large tray of tiny energon shots balanced in his arms. Starscream swiped four, pinching two between each of his fingers and extending one set to Megatron.

He threw his back with practiced ease, and Megatron followed, letting the warm, inebriating mixture slow his systems and ease his frustrations. Yes, he had paint all down his back and the mechs at one of the tables towards the back of the room looked like they were partaking in some sort of bizarre tabletop orgy, but Starscream's armour was glimmering in the multicoloured lights, and he was warm where he brushed against Megatron.

Some of the Decepticons were attempting to bellow conflicting recounts of their favourite war stories over the music, nudging each other with reminders, laughing and lamenting over their bad beginnings and the trials of Earth and their luck at surviving it all.

Through it all Starscream watched him, optics dim and seductive. Megatron blindly reached for another shot. And another.

At some point, with more shots than he could count running through his fuel lines and smeared in paint from servos that weren't just Starscream's, Megatron rose from his seat to reclaim his seeker. Starscream pretended to brush him off, but Megatron pressed close to his back, mouth on his neck, servos at his waist.

He pulsed his spark, natural desire and arousal bounced back at him, and he caught Starscream by the wrist and the wing and tugged him away from the masses until he found the darkest corner he could. Starscream twisted in his grip and flung himself at him. He too was covered in paint. He tasted richly of high-grade, his glossa clumsy and slow as they kissed.

Megatron pinned him against the corner and shoved a knee between his mate's thighs. Starscream gasped, and lust burned through their circuits.

* * *

 

 

Megatron thought he'd been punched by Optimus Prime when he woke. The pain shooting through his processor told him it was just as painful. He onlined his optics to find himself staring at the ceiling of Starscream's living room.

A quick assessment of his surroundings told him he was on the floor, on his back... covered in pink and blue smears. Had he been attacked?

No. Party. Kaon. Club.

 _Starscream_.

"Starscream?!" He shot upright, ignoring the pain of his frame and glitch in his optical feed for the worry over his absent mate. He couldn't remember leaving, so he couldn't remember when he might have last seen Starscream. He rolled onto his servos, pushing himself upright. Thinking, for perhaps the thousandth time, that he was too old for his scrap.

"Starscream?"

A low, unpleasant whine answered him.

He stumbled into the next room, the office, and there was his mate, curled into a ball under the desk, hiding in the shadows. Bleary optics blinked at Megatron. A hoarse, broken sounding voice answered, "Last night... was a mistake."

Megatron didn't know what happened to even agree. He dropped to his knees besides Starscream's hiding place, and then slumped strutlessly to the floor, breath huffing out of him. Starscream looked much like he felt. He also smelt like excess charge and his armour was smeared with the same paint from last night. Megatron noticed two hand prints on his mate's wings, neither one of them matching his own servos.

He grumbled resentfully, "What happened?"

Starscream rubbed a servo across his face, "Too much of a good thing." He said weakly, then winced and pulled an empty cube from under his back.. "...I think you 'faced me."

Megatron grunted. Yeah, probably. 

"I mean _, in_ the bar." Starscream reaffirmed. "In front of, well, everyone."

Megatron snorted. That was highly unlikely. "I have more respect for you than that."

He lived to regret such a sure dismissal. Within ten minutes of them sulking on the floor feeling sorry for themselves, a message from Soundwave came to Megatron's com. Processor swimming, Megatron ignored it. Then another came in, and another. 

Resentful, Megatron winced and opened the first one.

And there was no better cure for over-charge than a shock of this magnitude. Soundwave was sending him the news headlines from this morning. The planet-wide headlines.

"What is it?" Starscream croaked, lifting his helm.

Megatron didn't want to show him. For a creative medium, the news outlets all seemed to run with the same theme for their latest Decepticon scandal, and why on Cybertron they always targeted Starscream as their prime victim, he'd never know. ' _ **Notorious Seeker Seduces Lord Protector Just Weeks Ahead of Formal Ceremony**_ ,' felt rather unfair, especially considering the image that came with it. Him pinning Starscream to the wall. It looked unpleasantly rough.

" _High Lord Protector High on High Grade_ ," Starscream read his own headline, then tilted his helm to study the picture. "Looks more like you're high on me."

"Soundwave's removing the stories," Megatron sighed, sitting upright. "But I'm sure Prime will be calling soon."

Starscream huffed, "He'll just be jealous he wasn't invited."

" _I'm_ jealous he wasn't invited," Megatron grumped, "I would have enjoyed watching him suffer in a place like that." He glanced at his armour, and supposed he should deal with his appearance. "I'm showering before Prime calls." 

When he stood up Starscream laughed, he turned back to observe the seeker. "What?"

"Don't forget to scrub your aft," Starscream smirked, "Looks like I really was _all over you_ last night."

Megatron stumbled out of the room backwards, trying to see what state his mate had left him in. He tripped in the doorway and Starscream laughed again. 

There was no better cure for a headache. 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to upload this so many times it's embarrassing...

Megatron had used up all of his vetoes by the time they chose the venue. And that had still been fairly early in the planning. Which was an indication of just how much he was going to hate this.

It was two nights before the dreaded event itself that Prime cajoled him and Starscream out for one last inspection of the venue. Not that it mattered. What Megatron had wanted to change about Iacon's Grand Citadel was a no go. He knew that without bothering to ask.

Starscream did anyway.

"Can we change the holograms?" Starscream stood in front of the long line of holographic historical Prime's staring down from their pedestals in the Great Wall and casually waved a servo through Nova's stern face. "Or at least turn them off?"

The Citadel's keepers clustered together with the Events Committee for a hushed conversation, and-

"No," said the bravest of the committee members. "The citadel was built in honour of the ancient Primes. To remove the images of such revered figures would be-"

"Alright, alright," Starscream hastily waved her into silence. "I get it."

Megatron too understood, but wasn't ready to let such as thing as honouring the oppressors of his caste during his own bonding ceremony lie so easily. He opened his mouth, but Starscream brushed by with a knowing look.

He stowed his temper long enough to incline his helm. "You're allowing this?"

"Of course not," Starscream whispered, "I just can't be bothered to argue. They'll be vandalised beyond functionality during the ceremony anyway."

Megatron was only mildly surprised that his mate would sink to that, "You're-?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers too." Starscream snapped, and then fixed his smile into place as their entourage joined them.

"Is everything to your satisfaction, Lord Protector?" One of them asked.

Nothing was to Megatron's satisfaction, but he wasn't going to have another three hour argument with these idiots only to end up in the same place again so he nodded, squeezed Starscream's shoulder as something to steady himself with, and agreed.

"As much as it'll ever be."

The committee was all smiles and nods, and Megatron ignored the sympathetic look Starscream shot his way.

 

* * *

 

As per tradition, they were separated. Starscream didn't mind a night alone. Megatron took up an inordinate amount of space in his berth and often insisted on a half-conscious clinginess some called 'cuddling'.

Waking up the day of the ceremony with a clear mind and a clearer berth was as good a start as he could have wished for.

He laid where he was, gazing out towards the balcony, wondering what state of perpetual stress Megatron had been worked into so far. Had he been forced out of his berth yet? Were they already hammering his bodywork into a more flattering shape and spraying him with a fresh coat of paint?

He should have have been more concerned for himself.

A rapid, tuneful knock sounded at his door. He rolled into his side in time to see it burst open. Skywarp jumped over the threshold, grin blinding, Thundercracker followed at a more solemn pace, expression one of calm satisfaction.

"There's a crowd of body artists waiting for you outside your apartment," Thundercracker told him, sounding unimpressed. "Over twenty."

Starscream nodded, tossing back the covers. "Nothing but the best for the Lord Consort," he reminded his trine mate snottily.

"Think they'll have time to do me?" Skywarp asked, peering around his personal room suspiciously. He suddenly ducked and looked under the berth.

"What are you _doing?_ " Starscream sneered.

"Looking for Megatron." Skywarp shrugged, "You really brave enough to let him out of your sight the night before the ceremony?"

Starscream forced away the apprehension that had been haunting him for the past few months. "Of course I am. He'll show."

"Thought he'd be half-way to some backwater trading post by now." Skywarp pulled a face. "You sure he hasn't left you any secret notes telling you to meet him in an abandoned asteroid field?"

"Skywarp," Thundercracker growled.

Skywarp blinked, "Wait...? _We_ weren't supposed to pass on the secret note were we?"

"Megatron is already getting ready." Thundercracker snapped, "Soundwave's with him. There is no secret getaway plan."

"What are you doing here anyway, Skywarp?" Starscream snapped, irritated at his trinemate's attempts at agitating him when he was already tense enough. "You're not part of my entourage."

"I'm the understudy." Skywarp pointed at Thundercracker, "In case something happens to TC."

"There are no understudies. This isn't a performance."

"Coulda fooled me." Skywarp grumbled.

"Both of you out," Starscream demanded, "And send in the artists."

Skywarp mimicked him under his breath, pulling a face. "Alright Princess."

Thundercracker tugged on Skywarp's wing to get him out through the door, and in their place entered a tall yellow, unhappy looking Autobot. He barged in and dumped his supplies on the floor. Starscream glared at him.

"Sunstreaker," he recalled. Also the mech he remembered was responsible for leaking the ceremonial invitations early.

Sunstreaker looked him up and down, "You're outmoded."

"Excuse me?" Starscream hissed, planting his servos on his hips. A _grounder_? Having the nerve to criticise _his_ appearance.

"We need to update your look." Sunstreaker elaborated, and unsubspaced a spray gun. "And your lines are all wrong. Make you look square. Megatron's incompetent style is rubbing off on you."

Starscream scowled, "How _dare_ -"

Sunstreaker whipped out a datapad and flipped it to face Starscream. It was covered in armour designs, colours palettes, and ideas for fine detailing. Starscream shut his mouth with an audible clack, reaching out to take the datapad. He flicked through them, face pinched with the effort it took not to look impressed.

"Not bad," he murmured, settling on a dark design. Red, black, with the occasional hint of yellow. It looked regal. "For an Autobot."

He pointed to the design he'd chosen, and Sunstreaker snorted in disagreement. "You can't pull that off."

"Watch me." Starscream snapped, and opened up his arms and wings, ready to be sprayed up. "Get on with it."

* * *

 

Megatron felt as though every inch of him had been poked and prodded and tutted at by the time he was bundled into a transport and sent on his merry way. Soundwave was still with him, which offered some level of comfort, but it was still unbearably tempting to throw a punch at the window and fling himself out into the air traffic lanes.

Soundwave shook his helm slowly.

"I wasn't considering it seriously." Megatron growled, even more irritable now that Soundwave knew of his wavering confidence. In just a few hours, it would be over. He could go back to being a recluse, to holing himself up with Starscream and keeping his private life private. It was just a ridiculous show, that was all.

And Starscream would be there with him the whole time.

"Remind me why I was separated from my bondmate?" He complained.

Soundwave glanced up from the schedule. "Tradition. Prime's insistence."

Megatron would have liked to insist Prime was separated from something he loved. See how he liked it.

Soundwave seemed to pick up on that thought, his visor dimmed sympathetically. Indignity boiled in Megatron's chest at the sentimentality of his own thoughts. He missed his seeker. That was all.

The citadel was surrounded from all sides by swaying masses of Cybertronians. Thousands of them lined the streets. Prime's event team had gone all out. Megatron got the distinct impression that they were using him and Starscream as a practice round should Prime himself decide to finally bond with Elita.

The transport began to lower, and Megatron braced himself, knowing that from this point onwards he would be surrounded, in the spotlight, unable to escape.

Media drones swarmed and were immediately shunted back by security. Megatron exited the transport, signature scowl in place as he eyed any drones that looked most likely to slip past the security, so he could be ready to smash them himself.

"Smile, man."

Megatron turned to find -not a media drone he could destroy- but a cheerfully smiling Jazz instead. "It's your big day."

Megatron barely stopped himself from saying it felt more like Judgement Day.

It didn't matter, neither Jazz nor any of the Autobots seemed interested in his thoughts and feelings on the matter. He was lead, like a criminal to his execution, past the crowds and into the citadel. Luscious red carpet had been laid out, because Primus forbid the planet's elite have to walk on the ground like commoners.

Primus's solemn face still stared down at them from the front window, proving that removing the images of their creator god was at least one argument even Starscream couldn't win against the Event's Team. He scowled at the stained glass window, the sight of it oppressive in more ways than one.

The stands were already full of guests, most he did not recognise and none of whom he would consider friends. The occasional alien was also in attendance. The faces grew no more familiar as he headed towards the front, until he saw a flash of pink. Pinker than usual.

 _Obscenely_ pink.

"Don't look so worried," Elita smiled, leaning back against her pew on the front row. As Prime's paramour she was entitled to one of the best seats. Her painted lips curved kindly. "You look very handsome."

With the amount of time he had spent being harassed that morning he should damn well hope he looked handsome.

"Starscream?" He asked.

"Finishing touches." She explained, "You know he likes to look perfect. He won't be too long now."

Just as she finished, a low deep bell rang out. Megatron glanced up, and the clanging of armour and murmurs of voices died down as the guests began to take their seats.

"See?" She whispered, shifting across the bench. "Told you he wouldn't be long."

Something in Megatron's chest pulsed. He reached for Starscream's presence through the bond, searching for him as he wandered listlessly towards the front of the citadel. The officiant was already in place, waiting atop the platform beside Thundercracker. He swallowed thickly. It felt like his own armour was throttling him.

He received an answering greeting. Starscream was outside, waiting to come in.

"Megatron," a voice whispered harshly.

He looked up and it was Prowl in the second row gesturing furiously for him to take his place. He shocked himself out of his trance, recalling the rehearsal from the precious day.

 _Back straight_ , he remembered, turning away from where Starscream was due to enter, _face the front. Do not turn around._

An impossible task, he thought as the citadel fell into an ominous silence, how was he expected to keep his expression schooled and optics forward when his mate was about to enter the room, polished and waxed to the nines. He waited, tense, until he heard a soft murmur of appreciation roll through the room as Starscream must have entered.

He twitched a shoulder, but held his place.

A sets of thrusters clicked towards him, growing louder the closer they drew. Megatron stared at the window of Primus, straining his optics to see if could spot the reflection of his mate in the glass.

He jumped when a servo touched his shoulder, finally breaking his concentration and looking to the side and-

"Starscream," he murmured, even though he wasn't to speak. His mate stepped up to be level with him, face dark, framed by his darker paint. He looked timeless, elegant. Royal.

Lips curved.

Starscream was satisfied with his reaction, but Megatron's attention was stolen away from his mate by the officiant clearing his vocaliser loudly. Scowling, Megatron kept his gaze forward, trying not to think about how he wanted to stretch out his digits and capture Starscream's servo in his own.

The officiant began droning out some old Iaconian traditional vows about honour and dedication, loyalty, and respect. Megatron's mind wandered as he mused on how little such words reflected their real relationship.

 _Hey_ , Starscream poked him through the bond.

Megatron side-eyed his mate, and after a moment of hesitation, _...You look... nice_

He saw Starscream's mouth curve again. _I know_

_You're late_

_Worried?_ Starscream arched a brow, staring at the officiant as if he was hanging on the old codger's every word.

 _Yes_ , Megatron admitted.

Starscream fell mute then. His wings dropped a little lower. The officiant's voice rose and fell with harrowed sounding vows. He gestured to Megatron and began dithering over something about a Lord Protector's duty to serve the planet, and a consort's duty to obey his mate.

_You know I'll never obey you, don't you?_

Megatron wasn't surprised in the least. _I asked them to remove that line_

 _So did I,_ Starscream complained.

Well, at least they were being ignored in equal measure.

Warm digits brushed Megatron's own, and he didn't even think about how he had been lectured again and again that they shouldn't touch in the holy citadel before the officiant had blessed their union. How it was disrespectful. But Starscream was his mate. Megatron seized those slender digits and held tight, having no intention of letting go.

Starscream thrilled next to him, squeezing back.

The officiant was frowning at them disapprovingly, but carried on regardless.

 _I know that you hate this_ , Starscream started up again. _You shouldn't have to do this_

 _It's my duty_ , Megatron dismissed the pity. _You're happy, at least?_

 _I am happy with you_ , Starscream murmured, and it sounded like he was holding something back. _...You should kiss me_

The officiant was still halfway through his unending nonsense. Megatron looked to his mate, hesitating, _now?_

His servo was tugged and Starscream turned, chin up. Hundreds of onlookers were watching, listening to the officiant drone on. So of course Megatron threw tradition and decorum out the window and swept the seeker closer.

The officiant stumbled on his words, a murmur that sounded parts delighted, parts indignant carried through the hall. Megatron ignored it all, kissing his mate smoothly.

 _Stuffy Autobot ceremonies,_ Starscream told him playfully, looping an arm around Megatron's neck to kept him in the kiss just a little longer.

Finally they broke apart. The officiant was watching them impatiently. Megatron straightened, clearing his vocaliser.

"Continue."

"Thank you." The officiant said stiffly, glaring, "... By the powers vested in me, I now pronounce-"

The officiant was interrupted again when Starscream yanked on Megatron's servo and pulled him into another kiss. A cheer grew in the citadel, and Megatron was vaguely aware of Starscream waving for the officiant to hurry up and finish the vows.

Megatron concentrated on the warmth of Starscream's lips and not the flashing of cameras. _This_ was the moment he wanted to remember. This, and no other.

 

* * *

 

The reception was taking place in a less oppressively religious venue than the citadel, but no less stuffily Autobot in nature.

Starscream had wanted to remain by Megatron's side -his mate was no good at fielding questions that weren't about military and politics- and his response to invasive questions like, where he and Starscream were going to live now, were met with stony glares.

Sadly, it wasn't to be. Prime stole Megatron away somewhere, apparently to rehearse the speeches they had to give. Starscream himself hadn't been allowed to give a speech. As the consort, it wasn't his place.

Skywarp had invaded one of the head tables, making up for the lack of seating by sitting in the lap of some neutral city-state politician Prime's office was obviously trying to butter up for something. He waved at Starscream across the room, trying to gesture him over.

Unfortunately, he was otherwise occupied.

"-been so long since a Lord Protector has taken a consort." Some Praxian airhead was gushing at him. "Even before the war. And with Prime being unbonded, it'll be nice to have a united couple in the spotlight of this growing truce."

Starscream tried to smile to be polite, but couldn't really be bothered so looked more like a sneer. "Indeed."

"It's nice to see a ceremony done properly as well," the Airhead's date added. "Decepticons aren't particularly good at these sort of things. Was good of the Prime to put this on."

Starscream wished he didn't want to drown himself in his high-grade so badly, as he would have been more than happy to pour it all over this particular guest's helm.

"Indeed." He said again, even more stiffly.

"So," said Airhead, "When can we expect the next big announcement?"

Starscream blinked at her, "...What?"

It wasn't quite the polite and graceful sort of answer he had been instructed to give, but small talk with these... _people_ was exhausting.

"Why, _Sparklings_ , of course!" Airhead exclaimed in delight, and the word dropped like ice into Starscream's tank. "That'll be next on the agenda I suppose. How many do you think you'll have?"

Starscream shook his helm stiffly, vocaliser stuttering, "I have to- excuse me- while I-"

He felt sick, and someone from Public Relations would have a fit if they found out he'd purged over a guest in the middle of the reception. The media would have a field day with it. He fled into the crowd, servos at his throat.

Sparklings?

_Sparklings?!_

 

* * *

 

Megatron was just about to step back out into the ballroom when clawed servos hooked into the back of his shoulder and yanked him behind a curtain. Battle computers shot online, his servos curled into fists. He spun, ready to put his attacker through the wall, only to find a wide optic'd, pale faced Starscream staring back at him.

"This is the worst idea." His mate told him, clutching at his chest. "I need you to get me out of here."

Megatron stared. He had seen Starscream scared before, most often, of him. But _this..._ "What happened?"

"Let's go." Starscream didn't explain, he tugged on Megatron again. "Lets just _go._ Go now. Run away to.. to an asteroid field somewhere. I hear Skywarp knows of a good one. Let's just go and not speak to anyone."

Megatron griped the panicked seeker's servos, trying to calm him. He'd like nothing more than to scale down the building and disappear into the night, especially before he became trapped at a table and had to spend the next two hours listening to speeches, but Starscream was clearly unhinged.

"You'll miss your moment in the spotlight." He reminded him.

"I've had enough in the spotlight." Starscream shook his helm, very uncharacteristic. "I've had enough attention, and enough questions and- and- I've had _enough."_

Megatron understood how he felt perfectly, but they'd made it this far.

"There won't be much longer."

Starscream shook his helm. "I don't trust these Autobots," he proclaimed, sounding like the paranoid commander he was at the height of the war. "They're- they're planning my whole life out for me. They're-"

He hesitated, looking aside before meeting Megatron's optics.

"...They want us to have _sparklings."_

Megatron felt as if his processor had just shorted out. He stared at Starscream for a long time. "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"First they force us into this ridiculous fiasco," Starscream shook him, "When we would have been perfectly happy with a union ceremony on the roof of my apartment building with my trine, and Soundwave, and some rust sticks probably- next they'll be manipulating us into _that."_

Megatron doubted Prime's master plan was to have them spawning tiny future Decepticons. "Starscream-"

"You know how keen Prime is on repopulation." Starscream stuck his helm out from behind the curtain, just to be ensure Prime and his lackeys hadn't found their hiding spot. They'd be looking for them by now, keen to start the speeches. "Elita will have put him up to it. She wants me out of the way. What better way to tie me down than have sparklings hanging off my wings?"

Megatron sighed.

"Please." Starscream looked at him. "Let's _go."_

Megatron felt his resolve dwindle. "Where?"

"Anywhere we want?" Starscream leaned into him. "Somewhere they won't find us for at least a week. Let's just go."

A few months ago, Megatron would have jumped at the chance to elope with Starscream, leave the Autobots and their traditions and suffocating parties behind. To just be with Starscream, alone, private, no cameras or politicians.

He breathed out deeply. "Alright." He sighed. "But you'll have to admit to kidnapping me against my will when we return to face Prime."

"Done." Starscream agreed immediately, grin blinding. He leaned up and kissed Megatron. And kissed him again. "Done." He repeated himself, "Lets go. Lets go. The transport is waiting for us outside. It'll take us anywhere he want to go."

Megatron let himself be led out into the corridor, the music from the ballroom muffled through the walls. "You're fortunate I care so much for you."

Starscream grinned at him over his wing, "You're fortunate I bothered to collect you before leaving."

Megatron huffed, and struggled to keep pace with the rushing seeker. "Yes, I suppose I am."

 

 


End file.
